


Ouvrez Mes Yeux, My Mind (Open My Eyes)

by stylinourry



Series: crossing oceans (I'd save the world for you) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Liam finds an odd way to take the pressure off of his back, M/M, and it's nothing like he ever expected., i might make this into a series hah, so when world-saving becomes too tedious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinourry/pseuds/stylinourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He took his hand.</p><p>Cold metal entwined with rough waxed glove.</p><p>"I wouldn't have cancelled all my philanthropy arrangements if I didn't love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see after a mini semi-hiatus I wanted to put a spin on the Avengers. I'm in love with the Marvel Cinematic Universe rn and I figured this would work well together! Hope you all like it (and please be light on me lol it's my first time writing this kind of literary work). 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I don't own One Direction or The Avengers. This is merely a work of pure fiction. (I wish)

Beep.

He rolls over, clutching the thick mass of blankets to his chest. The annoying noise grows more incessant and he just wishes the thing would _shut up_ for once.

It doesn't.

Blame hefty Malik enterprises for this.

In all honesty, Liam never asked for such a confusing contraption in the first place! He suddenly possesses a little air of loathing for Zayn and his obnoxious efforts.

"It's a 210 model - _auditory_ \- alarm clock," he said. "Made it myself, par main," he said. "This A.I beaut contains a built-in vocal system that surpasses the most robotic of mechanical model alarm clock interactions out there," he said.

Liam sighed, pinching his nose.

It's a damn _alarm clock_. Doesn't need any more fancy shmancy schticks to go with it. Yet again this was a Malik invention. And he still has yet to adjust to the massive influx of technology in this 21st century awash with automatic furniture and instant demand gratifications.

To put it simply: he had no fucking idea how to utilize technology in intricate detail.

Well...when would you expect a post-second world war supersoldier to have an instantaneous adjustment to a life paced nearly 60 years into this century?

Liam gawked at the beach ball sized alarm clock, its rounded form reflecting a menace.

How was he supposed to do it again?

"I'm - awake now," he told the robot. Liam snorted inwardly to himself at the strange situation.

The grey thing seemed to rouse; it silenced its beeps immediately.

_"Good morning, Mr. Payne. I assume you slept well?"_

"What the fuck." Liam's thick eyebrows furrowed together in part frustration, part amusement. When the fuck did he agree to house an alarm clock that was apparently _alive_ and speaking to him?

_"You sound shocked, sir. Is something wrong?"_

Liam managed to collect his bearings and decided: yes. Talking to it like it was a normal human being would probably be the best course of action for him to take at the moment.

He could gather his confusion later.

Liam cleared his throat, running a hand over his sleepy face. "Oh, nothing's wrong. I promise."

_What?_

_"I am glad, sir. You may call me BEN. I am not only a simple alarm clock but also a built-in messaging center, communications device and am constructed to meet your every need."_

Liam stared hard, perturbed. He was having immense difficulty in understanding this whole current fad. He was especially not used to talking gadgets.

Yet again billion-buck Malik enterprises had a stowaway of around 10,000+ advanced unnecessaires just like this one. Weird and fascinating.

Liam gave it a shot, shoulders squared straighter.

"What are my plans for the day, BEN?"

_"Please give me a moment, sir. Ah, unfortunately I am not programmed to organize your daily schedules, but I can link you to JARVIS."_

Liam paused. The name rang a bell. He needed more clarification.

"Who is Jarvis?"

The clock responded with guile. _"My main computer, sir. JARVIS is the central cortex of our programmed circuits. I am merely a simplified lower model of JARVIS. He answers to Zayn Malik alone."_

Oh! _JARVIS_ \- that artificial intelligence Zayn constantly muttered orders to and trusted as if it was a real persona to trust when trouble brewed. Liam witnessed that too many times while they were in the midst of combat. A bubble of mixed anger swirled within Liam's abdomen. Then what the fuck was the actual purpose of BEN being here?!

"Can I speak to Zayn please? Now?"

_"Of course, sir. Please wait a moment."_

These formal requests were mind numbing.

Liam, on the other hand, was seething. It was his day off and this nuisance set his mood off to a great start.

BEN redirected, static ebbing away through the speakers.

_"Hello, Sir Liam Payne. You would like to speak to Mr. Malik?"_

"Yes, _please_ ," he growled out the last word, straining to keep his self control down. Their friendship was a dysfunctional one in which Zayn could be a total nitwit and genius at the same time, but a myriad of technical obstacles wasn't his piece of cake and Zayn _knew_ that. 

Insufferable genius with a brain tumor, more like.

_"Projecting. Mr. Malik appears to be busy. I am sorry. Perhaps you would like to leave him a message?"_

That's it.

"ZAYN!"

~~

_"Mr. Malik, Sir Liam Payne's expressing severe agitation at your unavailability. He yelled your name in response to my recommendation of leaving a message for you and I think you should tell him you're present."_

Zayn chuckled, wheeling himself over to the extended table that strapped his jillion-ton weighted iron suit upon a stable surface for tinkering. A fond smile danced across his stubbled face and he inserted his pen into his mouth, hazel eyes trained on the suit's scratched forearm.

"No way, Jarv," he shook his head, lodging his skilled fingers into one of the iron overlays. "Paynie's going to kill me if he found out I lied to him." Another laugh escaped Zayn, smugness tucked inside his facade of a fearful tone.

JARVIS directed its silver body towards Zayn in what appeared like morose concern. _"I doubt that, sir. He currently does not expose a threat to you due to his mood."_ The playboy tapped the translucent glowing surface of his arc reactor, enveloping his chest in mock contemplation. My A.I sometimes, I swear to God, Zayn thought rather conspicuously.

"I suppose I can confront him, hm? Go ahead."

JARVIS shuddered, pleased, and was about to activate the line when Zayn stopped him.

"I was _kidding_. People have to loosen up their panties here." Lending JARVIS a crooked, self-absorbed smile, the robot sighed inaudibly.

_"Sir, I think he is not at all pleased either with you and your mishaps that you find hilarious."_

Zayn pushed a gold iron overlay down on the damaged one, screwing it into place as little robotic lasers skittered their way across the threshold and knit complex melding patterns inside the suit's arm.

"Li needs to loosen up. He's always been like this, the gorgeous bugger."

Zayn's mind strayed for a second, appreciating a certainly gorgeous bugger and the implacable visions of his red and blue-striped brilliance, the endless slope of his broad shoulders, the fierce, determined fire alight in his brown eyes when he spun his shield-

" _What_?! You've been there this whole TIME, MALIK?"

The voice roared through the feed, sending Zayn's extra pieces of armory to the floor in a clattered heap and he leapt to his quick feet, shooting JARVIS an offensive finger.

"What the fuck did I tell you, Jarv?"

_Worse, he probably heard my previous comment about him and shit. Someone murder me in my sleep._

_"I am sorry, sir. This needed to be done. You were not taking me seriously. And Mr. Payne vowed to - come over here and confront you himself."_

Zayn's wide eyes shone with panic and fury. "I _was_ conversing with you like a normal person!"

_"No you were not, sir. You were giving me off-hand replies. And last time I checked, you are a genius playboy millionaire philanthropist, most commonly known as Iron Man - an enigma way off the tangent of normal."_

Zayn's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, for once struck dumb by the overt sudden sassiness of his own damn A.I. He just-

Liam's ringing tone reverberated throughout the majestic iron suit habitat, evidently trying to cover up his laughter. And how dare he attempt to laugh at Zayn Malik's own misery.

"Something rubbed off Zayn Malik's sass, the resident obnoxious twit."

"Liam!" Zayn set his crowbar down on the table by the suit, flailing his arms in a pitiful pretense of threatening. "I'm going to take your stupid shield and blow it up into _shrapnel_ -"

"So the man speaks! Who forced me against my will to take in BEN-"

"I didn't _force_ you! You clearly told me, 'Okay Zayn - hopefully this works!'" Zayn mimed his voice to a bratty child's, chest heaving. The arc reactor moved along with it.

"And I _added_ , 'But you know I don't know anything about robots except for mission recruitments', you narcissist!"

_"Um, sirs? I regret to intervene - actually I do not regret to intervene - but there is an incoming call from New York...from General Fury."_

Zayn cursed, the absolutely petty squabble forgotten, and Liam's labored breathing could still be heard through JARVIS' feed.

He could also tell what JARVIS was possibly thinking in that artificial mind of intelligence.

Lover's Quarrel.

Nope. Fuck that.

Zayn wiped his sweaty brow, spent and embarrassed and an entire ways upset; he dropped back onto his chair, revolving around the table where the suit lay undisturbed.

What was this?

"I - I'll see you 'round, Cap."

Receiving a grunt in response, JARVIS terminated Liam's feed and immediately transferred to General Fury.

Zayn's head hung childishly, banging itself into a nearby metal pole that suspended the suit's mask, and his brain bled regret and odd sensations of slight gratification. Shit shit shit shit.

Soon, static intermingled with the general's stern voice - solid as rock, and Zayn couldn't believe that he was feeling _longing._

Longing for the man he argued with over some invention of his, and it rattled his conscience wittingly.

"Malik? You better be there. This is General Fury. We have a problem."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos! :') I was afraid no one would like my take on this universe but sometimes an author's gotta do what an author's gotta do.
> 
> Before we delve into the main round of things Thor _may_ make an appearance.

Zayn flew nonchalantly over the Pacific, the ocean brine springing up at him like molten lava from below. JARVIS remained wordless the entire duration of the trip to New York and if it was possible for Zayn to speed his ass over there as fast as Superman he would have, just to expel the random burst of _anxiety attacks_ he was suddenly feeling.

Zayn's eyes darted to the network display in front of his vision, buzzing meters and green arrays of symbols signifying his suit was ready to go. Iron Man was ready to go.

But Zayn couldn't help voicing a question that was gradually wilting his innards while time went by.

"I wonder if Liam's gonna be there-"

 _"Yes he will, sir. This_ is _an organized meeting for the Avengers and General Fury. I do not see why Captain America would exclude himself from an important matter."_

"...I wasn't asking you." Zayn's tan cheekbones burned with embarrassed abashment.

_"Oh."_

One way or the other, Zayn was bound to face a pending confrontation with Liam and he wasn't really looking forward to the event as much as he would have liked. Right?

Ah, piss. He was lying to himself and JARVIS would know that, as well.

~~

"So apparently Fury can't make the meeting, but he's going to be depending on me to send him a few briefings. Yuck."

Louis Tomlinson tugged on the taut rigid string of his bow, acknowledged Dr. Horan's presence and laughed at him, glad that someone here had at least a shrivel of good dry admirable humour left. Everyone nowadays was too sucked up into the pessimism and fearing for their lives that even the newspaper vendor a few blocks over couldn't be bothered to crack a smile anymore.

"Definitely yuck. I mean, Dr. Horan can't be entrusted with this stuff. Isn't that right, Niall?"

"Fuck off, Louis. Don't trigger me right now," Niall replied in a pretense of anger. He sat across from Louis, opening his laptop and connecting it to the central monitor. Four vacant chairs surrounded the vicinity and the two members were growing rather antsy; Niall attempted to lighten up the mood a bit by playing some mellow Neo-classical music.

It wasn't helping. So Niall turned it off instead with a sigh. "Where the hell are these pe-"

"I'm so sorry we're late!"

A voice winded by exertion sounded behind them and they started, watching the S.H.I.E.L.D agent they've always included in team cooperations enter the white expanse of a modern, stony room. He was followed by a looming figure embodying a round luminescent shield and the two heroes were immediately satisfied at the sight of their new arrivals.

Niall stood up, rolling his dark green dress sleeves to the elbows and shaking Agent Styles' and Liam's hands, respectively.

And he more or so gave Liam his usual compatriotic welcome hug. "Nice to see you again, Payne!" Him and Captain had gotten along very well from the get go anyway.

Captain America's kind brown eyes glistened in return. "Dr. Horan. And Tomlinson!"

He clapped Hawk-Eye jovially on the back, greeting an old friend like the world wasn't dependent on their fingertips of power.

"How's everything? You and Malik?"

Liam's countenance dimmed visibly and Louis regretted asking, ears pink. "O-oh. Not on good terms right now?"

He chuckled. "I'd rather not talk about it." Payne lent him a lopsided smile and Louis let Cap go, completely unaware that their lack of good terms was a stupid BEN robot's fault: a seriously fucking petty reason.

Shaking his head, he slid beside Agent Styles, careful not to glance at his vibrant, bright green eyes and he chose to transfix himself to the logistics of this meeting. He didn't need another _Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division_ agent to distract his train of thought.

Last time this happened Hawk-eye found himself in a sticky situation of sorts. And yeah...he wouldn't let his memories run asunder if he were you.

"Before we begin I...where's Malik?"

Harry's tall, quiffed, professional form encased a little pouty mouth and Louis personally resolved to kick himself underneath the metal table. 

If his legs would allow it.

Liam ran a shaky hand over the back of his helmet, and 4/5 of the Avengers were stuck in a meeting pothole because of the insufferable little shit.

"Just- just go on without Zayn, Harry-"

"WAIT! Wait a _flying_ second, no pun intended."

Speak of the devil.

Confused, irate eyes watched Zayn enter the room still suspended in the air, and he lowered himself to the ground clumsily as his suit extinguished his posterior thrusters.

_"You are late, sir. By ten minutes."_

"I know, Jarv. You can shut up now."

_"Yes, sir."_

As Zayn plundered forward through the doorway he opened his mask, exposing a sheepish, otherwise vain, temperament. "So sorry for my tardiness, folks." His eyes leaked sincerity, but only the stupids be fooled.

"What an entrance, Malik. Welcome to the meeting." Harry sighed albeit a wee bit amused, and Zayn detected that amusement. His grin grew wide.

No one can turn off Zayn Malik's charm. It was bonded into his blood - chickens couldn't manage to do it. He couldn't be Zayn Malik without the charm, and being sans charm meant sans smoothness, and sans-

"Take a seat, mate," Louis gesticulated at the seat beside Liam and he ignored the tensing up of Cap's sharp shoulders, smiling a little too pinchedly for his liking.

To his odd relief Zayn didn't care, and he plopped down on the chair that was thankfully sturdy enough to accommodate a hundred-ton pound of metal.

"So what the hell is up in this house?" Zayn slung an arm over Liam's seat and Niall bit back a snort.

"We're not in a jive house, Malik." Liam's voice was calm, but a threatening undercurrent to it made Harry cut as enthusiastically as he could into a meeting that wasn't quite starting off on the right note.

"Okay." Harry's large hands flipped through a pile of stark white papers and he gingerly slipped out a pale one from his file.

Agent Styles projected his slow, lucid voice to each member. "Remember how Loki tried to run a subjugation on Earth? Records here picked up by S.H.I.E.L.D suggest that he...has unfinished business."

A constrained groan shot through the Avengers; Louis rolled a pair of blue eyes, upset. "And what 'unfinished business', pray tell, is the Norse footface up to?"

 _"Footface-"_ , Zayn laughed lowly, finding something that wasn't too remotely funny funny nonetheless. "If Thor heard you he'd be giving you a run for his money."

Louis' expression was fond. "Why would he be giving _me_ a run for his money?" he barked. "His brother was the havoc-wreaking God and I don't think he'd be offended-"

"Yes he will. Brothers share an ultra bond. It's like the law of conversation of mass: the mass of the reactants will always equate to the mass of the products-"

Niall started to snicker conspiratorially, admiring how this meeting between ""mature"" individuals transpired to an off-the-tangent contest. And he almost guffawed at poor Agent Styles' face. He seemed sad, lost and didn't know how to put a stop to the foolishness. It was only a matter of time until Liam Payne stopped this conversation.

"What shit are you both spewing?" Niall added, shaking his head in utter mirth.

Zayn shrugged his shoulders, on the verge of mentioning a snarky comment until a firm hand on his metal-clad forearm stopped him.

"Malik. Stop. Now."

The commotion subsiding, attention shifted to the two glaring superheroes who had more than a couple fiery glances to exchange with each other, and they could sense gradual amounts of belligerence slowly building between the two.

Harry cleared his throat.

"Who're you to think you're in charge of everything, hm, Payne?" Zayn's tone was dark. "You're not the boss of me."

"I'm not. But you're constantly making an idiot out of yourself-"

Oh no.

The three other members looked on, possessing a premonition that this wouldn't go down nicely at all. They couldn't afford team unity to disrupt so easily in this manner.

Louis approached them, cautious and defensive. "Guys...calm-"

"Keep out of this, Tomlinson." Liam's gaze was fixed, sustaining a huffing Zayn Malik inside his splendorous red and gold iron suit, and Louis felt helpless.

They couldn't afford this. Leave it to the two polarized opposites of the team to create a dangerous, nuanced spark riddled with animosity. Niall cursed.

"An _idiot_ of myself? Is that how you perceive me, Mr. Perfect? _Really?_ " Zayn was hurt, and the emotions were blindly evident in his glare, but the fury quickly clouded that countenance. "Let go of me."

Liam didn't mean it. He really didn't. And Liam wishes he phrased his disarrayed words properly.

He continued to stare, his once equally hostile temperament morphing into silent anguish. The millionaire, however, refused to have any of Liam's advances.

"Didn't you hear what I said or are your phenomenal reflexes keeping me here?" Zayn wrenched his shoulder away from Captain America's grip. "Let. Go. Of. Me."

_I don't want to, Zayn. Please. Listen to me._

Zayn stalked towards the exit to an astounded Liam, and his heavy iron footsteps sounded like lead bullets to the Captain's ears. Louis, Niall and Harry crowded around the maroon table in similar parts shock and concern.

"I'm so sorry-"

Zayn flipped him off instantly, without shame, and Liam pretended that a horizontal crack had not just formed in the crevice of his chest. "Sorry my ass. I'm outta here."

"ZAYN! Come back-"

A clamor ensued as they went to retrieve Malik, but Captain America sank back down into his seat, lacking the audacity to run after Iron Man.

He wasn't Captain America without conviction and now, he resembled the feeling a laughingstock victim of Nazi abuse experienced: cowardice.

Zayn Malik made Liam Payne feel like a coward.

And he felt such because, deep within the recesses of a heart occupied with pathos that Captain America often refused to yield to, he was in love with Iron Man.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Routine thankyou's etc. (: Happy reading!

_"That was not such a wise idea, sir."_

JARVIS could say that again. It was an immature idea fulfilled on total impulse.

Zayn absent-mindedly swings his feet off the top ledge of the Empire State Building, where he's fled to in the hopes of gathering alone time for himself. Liam's words were acid to him; they fueled inhibitions about his character that he never considered before, but what else did Liam expect from him?

A cacophonic mix of frustration, sadness and anger engulfed his head.

Zayn Malik was a certified genius and mechanic. He was the mastermind of Malik enterprises, the underlying head of S.H.I.E.L.D's science diagnostics department, and - hell, let's not even go there.

He was growing increasingly sick of being blamed for every minuscule thing that may have gone wrong in the team's plans and belittled for loosening up the serious in the atmosphere through his predicaments. He was a _Malik_. And Liam...Liam's perception of him was an idiot. A fucking idiot.

Captain America, the figurehead of justice and perfection across this great land, hardly exhibited some effort into acquainting himself with Zayn, and that incongruous thought in itself made his heart ache.

Zayn scratched at his bearded scruff sullenly, trying to hold back tears because Zayn Malik did _not_ cry. It would result in humiliation and, in his strong opinion, pegged you as a weakling - emotionally sensitive and liable. To Zayn crying was a number one no-no for a superhero unless it was absolutely necessary and, fuck, had you in private. Like right now, at this dastardly moment of self-loathing.

_"Please do not cry, sir. Mr. Malik never cries unless he needs to. It also makes me sad."_

Zayn snorted bitterly. "How can you be sad? You're an artificial brain derived from kinematical computations that's not even capable of emotion!"

JARVIS didn't reply.

Zayn swore under his breath, armored hands nudging at the circumference of the arc reactor embedded in the center of Iron Man's chest. He laughed to himself - and, strangely enough, the sound of his laugh to his own ears made him shiver. There was...something...amiss about it that simultaneously frightened and amused him.

Whatever it was, Zayn pushed the unsettling thought to the back of his mind for the time being.

"Imagine New York seeing Iron Man mope at the top of the Empire State. Everyone'll have a field day," he says, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

This whole scenario was stupid and visceral and Zayn supposed he better return to the conference he ruined before Liam becomes all up-in-arms distressed and forces the rest of the Avengers to arrange a trivial scavenger hunt that would only be a bother to 'em.

JARVIS' sudden interjection sounded knowing. _"Someone is not having a field day, sir."_

And Zayn also supposed JARVIS was out of his usual element today, upholding cryptic nonsense that grated on Zayn's irritable nerves. "What the fuck are you going on abou-"

"Zayn."

***

Louis propelled himself with little difficulty up to the panelled roof of the NY National Bank, lead arrows rattling on his dorsal side as he squeezed his bow, palms slick; Niall was a few feet behind him, attempting to leave no deformed architecture.

Grunting, he cut in front of Louis: a green panting mass of humongous terror.

Well - he was hardly terrifying in cases like these.

"You seen him yet?" Louis asks, starting to get exasperated and aways annoyed at the intrinsic stubborn-ass Malik. His mouth constantly placed him in ridiculous circumstances and for a second Louis understood why Cap found it difficult to hold back from slamming Zayn - well, in the most civil Americanized manner he could approach because hell, he was Captain America after all. The Iron guy was a hard eggshell that made you crack its surface to oblivion until he realized the idiocy of his actions.

Niall grunted his dissent, huge beefy shoulders shrugging and veined green hands opening.

"Just fuck it, d'you have any guesses though?"

Louis was famished. He needed a prime-cut potato steak flanked with spicy Parmigano flaské the minute he got home. All these pesky disturbances over fucking _Zayn Malik_...

"Hulk no guess. Zayn maybe moping. We Zayn know," Niall grumbled, his head swinging side to side titularly.

Louis grinned. "You genius monster, you, Nialler." How could he have possibly forgotten? When Zayn expressed discontentment over anything and everything he liked to withdraw to himself, and usually he would make a tiny excursion to some tall building and stayed there until it deemed fit for him to reappear. Strange habit, yeah, but Malik's cognition functioned so. There was only one significant place he can coin in New York.

Louis moved to the front of the roof panellings, straining for a good view from 5th and the Observatory. He squinted up at the looming shadow before them, glinting in its rusty splendour beneath the glare of the sun. "The Empire State building, Horan," he said, eyeing the silver needle atop the 82-year old landmark.

Hulk stomped his feet, pounding his chest enthusiastically as he growled in satisfaction.

Louis began his descent back to the ground floor, Hulk following him. If they were going to retrieve Zayn, they better do it quick, sans distractions. Fury was bound to lose what little remained of his patience once he found out what had happened.

And Louis pursed his thin lips in quaint amusement. He thinks he has a pretty good idea as to _whom_ had beaten them to Zayn first.

~~

 _In retrospect, approximately five months ago the genesis of the Tesseract on Earth didn't make things any better. Like, okay, so Zayn hadn't "protested" enough to restrict S.H.I.E.L.D access to the 'Cosmic Cube' or power gelatin or something, but yeah, Zayn assumed - for the lack of a better word - that, out of common sense, mole activity (pretty much fancier terminology for Tesseract exploitation) inside S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't be permitted anyway because this would mean they wanted a year life sentence entitlement to house arrest or more. And believe him when he says that no brainless person would_ ever _want to be stuck at home and soon forced to die from imminent boredom. Why imminent boredom? You'll be excluded from all other Department hustle and bustle because you betrayed their trust, too._

 _Sounds hella promising! This is why Malik mainly refused to sign a Tesseract lockdown waiver: S.H.I.E.L.D would rather blow itself up than exploit the thing and cause introverted chaos. He knew such betrayals were impossible. Plus, Malik was the one behind their erratic paychecks and monthly project expansions and inadvertent poo like that. Without him, the Science Diagnostics department would sink like an anchor headed for rough rocky bottom faster than you can say f***._

_Bottom line: exploit the Tesseract or beg for mercy._

_But of course, according to good flawless ol' Captain apparently he was supposed to have a prohibition of some sort for Tesseract access at least. About that...Zayn didn't enforce shit._

_And this is what drove Cap to the edge of their superbly clashing ideologies._

_This is what made them wobble on frayed opposite ends of the same rope since then. Captain America loathed the inexplicable, charismatic Iron Man. That much Zayn was aware of, obviously. Liam made that known to him in the most unnerving passive-aggressive way ever._

_"You don't care about anything, do you? Like selfless rescuing missions where Iron Man stops making stupid comments for once. It's always you and your goals and_ your _interests in fun and games-"_

_"Yeah, rewind, stop the tape - you don't know me, Payne. My quirks, my cerebral functions and my_ junk _are completely totally alien to you and I really couldn't give any less of a fuck what you think-"_

_"You're_ so _in-"_

_"Competent? I get that a lot, Cap. S'nothing new that hasn't been said yet about me so you're deeply two thousand and late. I know myself as much as you know your own (perky, dreadfully appealing - but Zayn couldn't say that) ass and your business and I'd appreciate it greatly if you just get off my metallistic back."_

_"Metallistic isn't a word-"_

_"Yes it fucking is and it's_ my _word so you can talk to the mask, Star Spangled old man."_

_Nearly nothing between them has bordered on friendliness ever since, either. They were on insulting derogatory crude innuendo-ridden (the latter was mostly on Zayn's part, duh) terms and Liam was being frustratingly, ridiculously, stiffly polite because you can't extract the politeness in him like you can't extract the unreasonable cantankerous in Zayn._

_Worse, they basically wrecked the team dynamic and this brought the three other Avengers to a whole new level of endless insults. As a result Louis had to be the makeshift shield physically separating the two while Horan and Styles held sickeningly steadfast to Payne. Hell, Zayn's sharp tongue could hardly refrain from shooting acid into his words and aiming them at Liam and_ damn _Zayn had no cronking idea how capable Liam Payne was at hurtling cold insults that_ almost _matched the intrepidity of Zayn's._ _Almost._

~~

The varying extent of their dislike for each other wasn't as, um, relevant now seeing that Zayn had bothered to defragment his schedule and construct BEN all in the name of Liam Payne (and yeah, okay at this point he admits it's so dandy prominent that the real bumpy footing Zayn and Liam started on happened because he was too consumed with a _bad_ case of cold feet to actually tell Captain America that Iron Man was in love with him to his face).

The facade was unnecessarily fucked up in its entirety, yes, and Zayn felt like beating himself up for it numerous times over. But it's been _FIVE GRUELING MONTHS_ since these harboring feelings for Liam began to nip uncomfortably at his -100 tacit mind and formed into this eventual gnarled convoluted entrancing thing that he, one day on a peachy Saturday morning in his lab, conceded as - dare he say it - love. 

This so didn't imply that the love process happened in a flash. No sir. It's not like he found himself suddenly anticipating Liam's glances and acknowledgements and trivial arguments that gave him an excuse to gawk over the man's chiseled, flaring face and _fuck_ , that ass-

Okay he's got it bad. Very bad. He accepted it five months ago.

Hopefully a pitiful benevolent soul can forgive him for having a deranged train of thought. But hey, the saying "people do crazy things when they're in love" couldn't have been more, ironically, fit for his state.

Eh, he still hated Liam for thinking shallowly of him and for uttering stupids, yet here he was, standing a few feet away from Zayn and watching him, expression undecipherable except his maroon eyes were glazed over with an emotion akin to _regret_ , although that in particular faded from his countenance instantly.

How- Zayn wasn't blind. His eyesight was a crisp 20/20 and he caught the subtle (not really) shift of visual markers that suggested Liam's incentive was to... _apologize_ , perhaps? Zayn struggled to inhale and not topple over at the unforeseen revelation.

His full semester study of Psych and Human BL Analytics at Harvard six years ago was largely responsible for his skilled inclination to detect probable motives the criminals he chased had, and who knew when this would be the most useful? Anticlimactic shit, huh? Even Perrie herself couldn't quite match his BL specialty despite them having taken the same course.

Either way, Liam was standing there to his peripheral left and that's what mattered right now, dammit.

Zayn spoke, voice hoarse and wary. It turned out Liam was equally as reluctant as he was.

They got themselves into a ludicrous shouting match twenty minutes ago. It's not like Liam was going to make the first move by reprimanding him for maiming the small conference that, oh, Fury initiated first and let ugly words fly again. Sounds creepy, but Zayn knew how Liam ticked, constantly hitting the right buttons in his head when he thought Liam wasn't occupying a radius of his body space.

Blame the fucking love bug for this.

"Zayn, I...what I said, my mouth was doing the talking-," Zayn tried his best to swallow a dirty retort, "-before my mind could process the words and I was completely out of line."

Zayn listened, but the fact that Liam's stupid entrancing eyes were shining with slight shame and knowing that Zayn was the focus of Liam's objectives suddenly made his chest tingly.

S'il vous plait, if a God existed he would grant Zayn self-control.

"Go on."

Liam then hesitantly shuffled his feet and, well, there isn't a God then.

Zayn's gaze was wide, calculated and intent. He seriously hoped Liam couldn't see past those defenses or else he would catch a glimpse of the giggly immature Malik dousing himself in arsenic powder. Sure, he got 3.5 ounces of that toxic stuff at home, but _Liam_ was doing this to him!

His thin (red) lips parted, hood gaze rooting Zayn to the spot; his blood pressure skyrocketing, Zayn was thankful for the arc reactor's systematic pressure-proof alloys because he felt like his chest cavity was about to implode on him any time now and _Liam just say what you need to damn say-_

"I FINALLY FOUND YOU MALIK!"

Fuck you too, Louis.


End file.
